


Through the Looking Glass

by Wertiyurae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Dacryphilia, Gay denial, Humanstuck, Internal Kink Shaming, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wertiyurae/pseuds/Wertiyurae
Summary: A cabin in the woods; a one-way mirror; and someone getting an eye full.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 23
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllDaveKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllDaveKat/gifts).



> This was a quick fic I wrote for AllDaveKat based on a jam on the davekat thirst server. This fic is way out of my wheelhouse, but I hope you will find it enjoyable. I may add onto this in the future, if the mood strikes me, but I felt it was complete enough to share as is. With all that out of the way, onwards!
> 
> UPDATE: There will be more because I am a sucker for peer pressure.

Although Karkat's preferred genre is romance (and more specifically, romantic comedies), he's seen enough horror movies to know that this cabin? This cabin is fucking bullshit. Of course, Rose is all about how fucking spooky it looks, John is only thinking about swimming in the probably leech infested waters of the nearby lake, Jade is already engrossed in looking at the local wildlife, and Dave... Dave's just annoyed that there's no wifi. In fact, when Karkat tries to raise the issue of why the fuck we would ever want to stay in this definitely haunted cabin what the fuck is wrong with all of you, the asshole has the nerve to laugh at him. 

Well, fuck him and fuck this cabin. 

Karkat picks a room at random and throws his duffel bag on the bed. At least the furnishings are clean, more or less. Apparently, Rose's mom sent someone by every few months for upkeep reasons, so while there's some dust and cobwebs, they aren't as thick as he expected from how the outside of the cabin looks. The huge mirror on the wall is mostly dust free. Something is strange about the mirror, and Karkat approaches it to get a better look--

"Karkat!" John calls from the hallway, his already boisterous voice loud in the silence of the cabin. "Get your butt out here--we're going swimming, and I'm not afraid to drag you into the lake!"

"Fuck you, Egbert," Karkat calls back, the insult halfhearted. With a sigh, he turns his back on the mirror, shucks off his clothes and changes into his swim trunks. When he leaves the cabin, he is not expecting the bucket of water precariously balanced on the door-frame. John Egbert does expect the punch he receives.

* * *

Later, when all the festivities are finished, movies watched, popcorn consumed, and the small amount of liquor Dave procured from some secret source he refused to divulge is drunk, everyone disperses to their rooms. Jade has it in her head to go hiking tomorrow bright and early, so they will be getting up bright and early, too. 

Karkat sits on the bed; his pajamas still in his duffel bag. He doesn't care much for pajamas, but he doesn't trust Egbert not to set up some kind of prank, and the last thing he wants to do is be pranked _and_ naked. So, he'll change in a bit. He looks up and the mirror catches his attention again. There's a good reason for that: Dave is reflected in the mirror.

Karkat jumps up, startled, and goes over to get a closer look. Yep. That is Dave.

Dave is frowning. Maybe he's just as confused as to why there's a window between their rooms as Karkat is. Karkat waves, but Dave doesn't seem to see it. Instead, Dave takes off his glasses, leans forward, and squints. 

One way mirror? Karkat waves his hand wildly and gets no response from Dave. The view through the glass is tinted but not blurry. It's like Karkat is wearing glasses and standing right in front of Dave. 

Dave sighs, and Karkat's momentarily surprised that it's silent. But of course, it would be. Dave's in another room. Then Dave takes off his hoodie. It's not until Dave starts pulling off his shirt that Karkat realizes he probably shouldn't be watching this. He should probably get a sheet and--

He's never seen Dave shirtless. Dave always, always wears a top. Even when they were swimming earlier, he wore a long-sleeved shirt, complaining that he wasn't used to this "cold-ass non Texas weather". Maybe that isn't a lie, but Karkat suddenly sees a lot of other reasons why Dave might want to stay covered. 

How does someone as young as Dave have so many scars? 

The concern distracts him long enough for Dave to take off his pants, too. 

Karkat feels his face flush. Okay, okay. He needs to stop watching. Right now. Yes. Definitely. 

Dave is still frowning into the mirror, his hands coming up to trace the lines on his chest. He's muscular, but in a wiry way. Trim like Karkat isn't. Pale in a way that begs for a tan. He's beautiful. Karkat has thought this before, but seeing him like this makes the thought rise up again: Dave is beautiful even if he's glaring at himself in a way which reminds Karkat uncomfortably of similar looks Karkat has directed towards a mirror more than once. 

Then Dave's shoulders slump, and he turns his back on Karkat, allowing Karkat to see that both the scars and the muscles are there as well. He walks over to the bed and slides off his underwear. 

Karkat needs to stop watching this. Dave's butt is as pale as the rest of him, and Karkat doesn't have long to enjoy it before Dave turns and lies back on the bed. The bed isn't so far away that Karkat can't see Dave's cock well enough to tell that it's hard. Karkat feels his own hardening in response. 

Dave spits into his hand, the expression on his face strangely dispassionate considering what he's clearly about to do. Karkat watches, unable to move, unable to turn away, as Dave reaches down and grabs himself. 

It looks almost painful, how rough Dave is being, but Karkat's mouth is dry and, wow, he should not be watching this. He should not. He should--

Dave bites his lip, and Karkat feels a shiver go through him. He knows he can't hear Dave's hard breaths, but his mind dutifully imagines what they must sound like. Karkat bites his own lip. God. 

His hand strays pantsward, but he can't quite manage the brain power to do more than that as he watches Dave handle himself. 

It's hard to tell at first, between the distance, and the distraction that Dave's hand on his cock provides, but Karkat sees a shine under Dave's eyes, running down his cheeks. Is he... is he crying? 

Karkat is the worst fucking person in the world for continuing to watch this, for finding his best friend crying while he masturbates hot. 

And then Dave grimaces, says something Karkat has no hope of guessing, and it's over. Dave slumps back against the mattress, his hand lying limp at his side as his cock softens. 

Karkat blinks, the moment broken. And he realizes what he's done. Oh shit. Oh shit. He's still hard, because he's a terrible person, but he's not going to follow Dave's example. Trembling, Karkat makes his way out of his room to get to the shower. Time to see how cold the water can really get.


	2. Chapter 2

To be honest, Dave is not having the best time on this week-long cabin excursion. It's dope to be chilling with his friends (and how amazing is it that he gets to do that now?), but he's still not used to being around so much greenery. Also, not having access to the internet sucks a big one. 

It doesn't help that Rose keeps giving him guff about Karkat. Thankfully, she only does it when Karkat's not around to hear it, but it's getting on his nerves. First of all, he's not gay. He's not. Second of all, even if he was gay, he knows Karkat isn't interested. They're just dudes being pals. Rose can go fuck herself.

(Not really, he loves Rose. She's the whole reason he gets to be here. And he doesn't care what Rose says: Mom Lalonde is wonderful—sure she drinks and Rose has to make them oatmeal, but at least there _is_ oatmeal. Not having to sword fight is also pretty fucking baller. Plus, he'd never have met Karkat if she hadn't taken him in after what went down with Bro. He owes Mom Lalonde a lot is the point.)

Such thoughts don't distract him long from how tired he is: it is turning out that hiking is yet another normal skill he can't hack. Slow and steady isn't his style; he does much better with bursts of speed and naps. At least Karkat seems to be having almost as miserable a time as he is, huffing and puffing away. Karkat notices his scrutiny and turns his own attention to the ground in front of him. 

Dave feels his brow furrow a fraction. Karkat has been acting weird since this morning. A lot of blushing and stammering and surreptitious sad looks. The latter's kind of creeping Dave out even as his concern for his second best bud grows. He wipes under his glasses to get the sweat out of his eyes before returning his attention to the hike. 

* * *

They return to the cabin for lunch, but all of them, even Jade, need a dip in the pond before they can think of eating. Dave doesn't even bother to change: his clothes are soaked in sweat anyway. John and Karkat just take off their shirts, and the girls decide to follow Dave's example. He's not disappointed: Rose is his sister now (and what a weird thought that is to try and remember sometimes!) and Jade... Jade already turned him down, and he's not the kind of guy who sneaks peeks at his friends. 

Unlike Karkat, who is trying very hard not to make the fact that he is clearly staring at Dave obvious. He sucks at it. Even if he was better at it, Dave is too used to the feeling of eyes on him. The only thing that stops Dave from feeling as weirded out as he thinks he should is the concern on Karkat's face. He'll have to talk to him later and find out what the fuck is up. 

"Heads up, Kat!" Dave calls as he sends a mighty splash over in Karkat's direction. 

Karkat sputters under the spray. "Oh, it's on, asshole," he declares, returning fire immediately. At least he doesn't look concerned anymore. 

* * *

"Dave... can I ask you something?" Karkat isn't looking at him, and his hands are making sporadic fists at his sides.

Despite his intention to talk to Karkat, Karkat is the one who catches Dave alone just outside Dave's bedroom that evening. Dave was planning on turning in early, still exhausted from the hike, but if Karkat wants to talk to him and get whatever's been bothering him off his chest, Dave is here for it. "You already have," he says, making sure his smile is wide, "but you can ask something else, too, if you want."

A soft guff of amused disbelief. Then Karkat shakes his head. "Are you... I was wondering if you were feeling okay."

Dave narrows his eyes, confused. "I'm a little tired from the hike," he confesses. "Other than that, I'm fucking peaches and cream peachy keen." 

"Oh." The word is quiet. Karkat bites his lip, and Dave tries not to imagine Karkat biting his own lip. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yeah?" Dave is absolutely perplexed. "We're talking right now."

Karkat scowls. "Never mind. Fuck me for trying." He turns to leave but Dave catches his arm. "What?"

Dave's not sure himself, just that he didn't want Karkat to leave like this: upset and angry. It'd be one thing if Dave had set out to make him angry—that is often fun—, but making him upset is never fun. "What's the matter? You've been acting weird all day." 

A tremor goes through Karkat's frame.

"Karkat?"

Karkat turns back to face him, his eyes bright. "I'm sorry. It's not any of my business. You don't have to talk to me; I've only known you a year, and you certainly don't owe me any explanations."

"Explanations about what?" Dave asks, although he really wishes he didn't have to. This conversation is moving in an uncomfortable direction, and he's not sure he's ready to hear whatever answer Karkat gives him. 

What follows is not the most uncomfortable silence in his life—Dave has experienced far too many of those for this to even fall in the top ten—, but watching Karkat fidget as he's thinking of what to say makes Dave's guts twist. Finally, Karkat sighs. "It's nothing."

"The fuck it is," Dave returns hotly, his earlier nervousness supplanted by annoyance. As much as he doesn't want to have this conversation—whatever it is—, his curiosity has been piqued, and he wants an answer whether he's going to like it or not. "You're the one who cornered me, remember? So, obviously, you have something you want to talk about."

Karkat is glaring. "I said it's nothing. Just leave it, asshole."

"Oh no, you're not getting out of this that easy, man. We're in the shit now, and you're going to help me motherfucking shovel it."

Now it's Karkat's turn to look confused. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't get to be upset I didn't explain something to you, and then change your mind when I ask for the deets as though you could go back to a time where you didn't say it. So, tell me, Karkat, what the fuck is this about? Because if I've got to deal with you moping and giving me sad eyes for the rest of the week, I can't be held responsible for—" 

"I saw the scars, Dave."

Dave almost asks Karkat to repeat himself, but he manages to rein in the impulse. Despite all the time he's spent blasting sick beats and all the slams to the head he's received over the years, there's nothing wrong with his hearing. If Karkat's seen them, there's no point in denying their existence, is there? But... "How? When?" Dave has spent years perfecting the art of keeping that shit hidden. Did his shirt ride up during that splash fight? But Karkat was being weird before that. 

Karkat opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His expression falls in on itself. "I..." His shoulders sag. "I have something to show you." He takes hold of Dave's arm. "This way."

The trip is too short, and Dave misses the warmth of Karkat's hand on his arm immediately. "Why are we in your room?"

Karkat bites his lip again. "Stay here. You'll see." With that incredibly mysterious statement, Karkat leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

Dave glances around, wondering if maybe Egbert has enlisted Karkat's help for a prank, but no. Dave never told John about the scars. The only person here who's supposed to know is Rose, and she'd never tell. Besides, Karkat had said he'd _seen_ them.

A faint knock coming from somewhere that isn't the door startles him, and he whirls around to seek the source. At first, he doesn't understand what he's looking at. A mirror. A large, obnoxiously decorated gold plated mirror. There's one just like it in Dave's room. Unlike the one in Dave's room, this one has Karkat in it, still knocking on the glass. 

He approaches the mirror and sees Karkat lower his hand, his expression grim. 

Karkat is saying something, but Dave can't hear it. It looks like he's saying, "I'm sorry." Then he hesitates before bowing his head. His hands go to the bottom of his shirt. His shoulders are shaking. Before Dave can figure out what's going on, Karkat pulls his shirt off. 

Dave's seen Karkat without his shirt before many times. He's appealingly chubby with a hint of muscle underneath. With the right regime, he could probably be one of those Iron Man guys, but Dave would be just as happy if Karkat never bothered: There's something comforting about being around someone who _can't_ kick his ass.

The guy is cute, okay? Dave isn't gay for recognizing that, right? It doesn't have to be a federal fucking issue, Rose! He shakes his head, trying to focus. What is going on? 

Karkat is trembling, shivering like he's cold, and there are tears welling in his eyes as he sort of pokes himself in the stomach and chest. Then he slides his hands down to his pants and starts unbuttoning them. 

Why is Karkat stripping? He knows Dave can see him—he knocked on the glass to make sure he could! Something about that thought tickles the back of Dave's brain, but he's too distracted by the view of Karkat pushing down his pants and exposing his underwear to follow up on that mental tickle just now. He's feeling a more physical concern anyway. 

He isn't gay, but Karkat seems to rile up the downstairs more than anything else. 

Now Karkat is staring into the glass at something over Dave's shoulder. Can Karkat not see him? Dave whips his fist forward, stopping it an inch away from Karkat's nose, and he doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink. No reaction at all. So, no, Karkat _can't_ see him. The thought fills Dave with an inner thrill he can't put a name to. Even though Karkat knows he's there, he doesn't know what Dave is doing. 

Why is that thought so hot?

Karkat's crying in earnest now, and he pushes down his underwear, and Dave can't look away. He doesn't like that Karkat looks so upset, but damn, he's well hung. If Dave had to stand next to that in a locker room, he'd be pretty jealous. 

Dave's pants are feeling tight, and he follows Karkat's example. There's physical relief, but also a coil of shame mixing in with the heat in his belly. It's a familiar sensation. He has it far too often. He had it last night, too. 

Last night... Last night. He almost pieces it together before getting distracted again by the view.

Karkat steps out of his underwear and goes over to sit on the bed, his ass exposed. It's a nice ass. Another thing Dave would be jealous of if he wasn't getting the opportunity to see it in all its glory. It occurs to Dave as he licks his palm so he can take the matter into his hand, that that is a pretty gay thought to have. At the moment, he doesn't care. 

Once Karkat sits down, he wipes his eyes. His shoulders heave in a silent sigh, and he spits in his hand. His dick isn't hard, but he starts tugging on it anyway. 

Dave has the strangest boner: watching Karkat jerk it is hot (not in a gay way, naturally), but seeing the tears that continue to run down his full cheeks isn't revving Dave's motor much. Why is Karkat so upset? Why is he doing this at all? These questions are faint distractions from Dave's own ministrations.

Gradually though, the misery on Karkat's face makes way for pleasure. He bites his lip, and his eyes close tightly. Dave matches Karkat's slow pace. It's not what he's used to, especially when he's feeling like this, but the action makes him feel closer to Karkat. He can almost imagine its Karkat's hand on him instead of his own. Almost: even after a year away from the strifes, the callouses remain. 

And, okay, fine, it's gay to want your guy friend's hand on your dick. Whatever. He's too busy right now to worry about that bullshit.

He can't hear Karkat's moans, but Dave is making enough noise for both of them. It's a little embarrassing how into this hand-job he's getting. Or it would be if anyone actually knew what he was doing. That thrill goes through him again, and he shudders. 

Dave finishes first. He puts his clothes back in order in a daze, still watching Karkat working on himself. The post orgasm fog lifts slowly, and Dave realizes piecemeal certain facts he should have realized before. 

Karkat is in Dave's room. Dave recognizes his duffel bag in the corner and his useless laptop on the bedside table. 

Dave is currently in Karkat's room.

This mirror is one way glass. What is a mirror on Dave's end, is a window on Karkat's. 

Karkat has seen Dave's scars.

What Karkat is doing tonight is almost exactly what Dave did last night. 

Oh shit. 

That explains some things. 


	3. Chapter 3

This is the absolutely least amount of fun Karkat has ever had masturbating. The absolute nadir of his sexual experience. Whenever he's entertained idle fantasies of Dave watching him, what's happening now isn't what he's pictured. Certainly not under these circumstances. 

At least he's not crying anymore. He didn't want to earlier, but knowing he was both going to be humiliating himself in front of Dave and that Dave isn't going to be his friend anymore after this made it impossible not to. The despair is gone now, and he's left with nothing but numbing certainty. 

Karkat's only continuing to jerk himself off because he owes Dave the full humiliation of doing it after spying on him last night. He doesn't even know if Dave's still watching: Dave's not interested in guys and he certainly wouldn't be interested in Karkat's chubby self if he was. If he _is_ still watching at this point, it's because he must find the sight of Karkat sitting here naked and touching himself funny.

His eyes ache with new tears even as he feels himself get close to climaxing. Considering his current thoughts, he's surprised he's managing to reach this state. Maybe he's messed up enough to get off on his own crying, too. He sees himself reflected in the mirror, flushing and obscenely wanton despite the inner turmoil he's experiencing. He closes his eyes, trying to pretend he's in his own room at home instead of in a cabin the middle of nowhere with Dave on the other side of a one way mirror, no doubt laughing at this display. Assuming he didn't turn away in disgust already.

Almost. Almost done. Then he can let Dave have his room back and face the music. The song being Dave never wanting anything to do with him again. He's crying again, gasping and sobbing, and he hates the sound of it. He's only happy that Dave can't hear him. 

Then the door opens. He whips his head around and sees Dave standing in the door way. His hand tightens on himself involuntarily, and he moans as the word "Dave?" comes out of his mouth. If he wasn't currently masturbating in front of Dave, that utterance would have been mortifying. As it is, his cock jerks in his hand, and he's so close, he's not sure he can stop.

Dave shuts the door quickly behind him, his face flushed. He's biting his lip, like he did last night, and that brief flash of Dave laying here where Karkat is sitting doing what Karkat is doing is enough to send Karkat over the edge. 

He can't hold back a groan as cum coats the back of his hand. He looks away from Dave, down at the mess in his lap. He didn't think he could feel more embarrassed than he already did, but now he knows better. He could have gone his whole life not knowing it, but this is the price he deserves to pay for being such a terrible person. 

Karkat wipes his hand on the top of his thigh and stands up slowly, still feeling that heady high despite his plummeting emotions. "I'll... I'll get out of your room," he says, his voice sounding choked. His mouth is so dry even as new wetness drips down his cheeks. "I'm, I'm sorry, Dave."

Not wanting to see Dave's reaction to his wholly inadequate apology, he goes over to the mirror and collects his clothes. He puts them on as quickly as he can, doing his best to ignore the sensation of the cum sticking to the fabric. 

"Wait."

Karkat pauses in the middle of buttoning his pants. He sees Dave reflected in the mirror, approaching him, but Karkat doesn't turn around. He can't face him now that he knows the truth, and he looks away from his reflection, too. He swallows, trying to get some moisture in his mouth. "What?" The word sounds harsher than it has any right to. None of this is Dave's fault. 

Before he can apologize, Dave speaks, his own voice rough. "I get it, ok? I get it." He sighs. "I'm not gonna pretend I'm super stoked about this, because I'm not, but I get it." Karkat starts at the hand on his bare shoulder but finds himself unable to do more than look up at their reflection. Dave is standing behind him, a small smile on his face. "Thanks for not lying to me." His cheeks darken further. "You didn't have to give me a show, but, uh, thanks for that, too."

Karkat swipes at his eyes with his cleaner hand. "You shouldn't be fucking thanking me for anything." He can't even bear to look at the Dave in the mirror, so he redirects his gaze to the floor. "I did worse than lie to you. I'm a terrible person, and I won't blame you for not wanting to have anything to do with me." As for the other part... It's hard not to get angry. "I'm glad your enjoyed yourself," he says tightly. "I'm gratified you find me humiliating myself so fucking entertaining."

The hand on his shoulder tightens. "Oh my God, Karkat, you're putting words in my mouth, and I don't need you to do that: I've got plenty of my own words to say." He takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing past Karkat's ear and making him shiver. "Listen to me; are you listening to me?"

"Yes." Karkat is surprised he manages to get the word out. Fuck, he's going to cry again, isn't he? Well, he can't say 'again' when he hasn't really stopped. He sniffs and hates himself.

"Okay. So, first of all, I'm not mad. Want to get that out of the way. Like I said, I'm not stoked, but I'm not mad."

Karkat hears him, but he can't believe what he's saying. His throat is too tight for him to bring up the words he needs to argue, so he settles for shaking his head. 

"I'm not," Dave insists. "I get it: you lay your eyes on a prime piece of real estate, and it's hard to look away." When he speaks again, his voice is soft with embarrassment. "At least, I couldn't when it was you."

Karkat's eyes dart up in his shock, looking for any sign in Dave's reflection of his deception. It's hard to tell with the shades he's wearing, but his cheeks are still flushed. 

"So, if you're a bad person for watching a cute guy getting busy with himself," Dave continues, "then I am, too."

Which part of this is more idiotic? The idea that Dave thinks being attracted to someone is an excuse for a gross invasion of their privacy or Dave's insinuation that Karkat is ‘cute’? The point is they're both idiotic ideas, and Dave is either lying or he's an even bigger idiot than Karkat ever thought.

"Right," Karkat says flatly, finding his voice at last, "because I'm so attractive." The former idea is probably more important to address for decency reasons, but he hates being lied to, and whatever he still owes Dave, he's not going to pretend Dave's being honest with this ‘compliment’. 

Dave is mercifully silent. It only lasts a moment before he's speaking again. "I mean, you are? You're cute, super hung, and you got junk in the trunk for miles." The hand on Karkat's shoulder twitches. "No homo."

"Watching another guy jack off is pretty fucking homo, Dave," Karkat snaps. Dave always does this: says something that makes Karkat think he might have a chance before following it up with a 'no homo' as though that phrase magically canceled out whatever definitely homo thing had come before it, and Karkat is in no mood to entertain this nonsense right now. He crosses his arms, suddenly aware that he never put his shirt back on. That's fine: according to Dave, the guy's already seen him masturbate, so really, what's left to hide at this point? 

Then again, Dave didn't actually say that, did he? He'd said ‘getting busy’. That could mean he'd stopped watching before the main event of Karakt's little show. He doesn't want to know, but he has to know. "You actually watched me jerk off?"

Dave finally lets go of Karkat's shoulder (Karkat misses the skin to skin contact more than he'd like to admit) so he can cough into his fist. "Uh. Yeah." He bites his lip. "I, uh, might have done more than watch you?"

What? Karkat turns around so he can look at Dave properly. "Is that a question? I hope you're not expecting _me_ to know what you did over there," he says, gesturing at the mirror behind him. "If you are, then I have some bad news for you."

A nervous chuckle. "No. No, I, I know what I did." He puts his hands in his pockets, bowing his back in unconvincing nonchalance. "On a scale of one to ten, one being totally man's man lady lover and ten being Pride parade, about how homo is it to, uh," he licks his lips, "rub one out to your guy friend rubbing one out?"

The question doesn't compute at all for an embarrassingly high number of seconds. Then Karkat is left gaping in utter disbelief by what he's inferring. "You... what?" He shakes his head sharply. "Can you say that again, less stupidly this time; I think I had something insane in my ear."

Dave shifts uncomfortably where he stands. Then he leans back and sighs, his words coming out in a rush, as though he's eager to be rid of them. "It was hot, okay? You stripping and touching yourself while I was watching you and you didn't know what I was doing, it was hot." He straightens up and turns his face back towards Karkat, allowing Karkat to see his own shocked expression in the dark lenses. "I'm only so strong, Karkat. A man can only take so much temptation before the inclination to sin sets in. A game lost before it begins."

The 'rap' continues along this vein for a while, but Karkat tunes it out, his mind and heart racing. Dave thinks watching Karkat masturbate was hot. He doesn't know what to do with this information. He doesn't understand how it can be true, but he doesn't want to accuse Dave of lying again--not when it appears Dave _isn’t_ going to stop being his friend over this. But, if it's true, what the fuck does it mean? Because, whatever Dave might claim, what he's been saying leads to a fairly obvious conclusion.

Karkat hates himself for getting his hopes up, but his hopes are up despite how much it's going to hurt when they get dashed again. "Dave," he interrupts, deciding he doesn't have much to lose by being blunt, "to answer your earlier asinine question, jerking off to another guy jerking off is pretty fucking gay." 

Dave looks startled, whether by the verdict or the interruption, Karkat can't say. "Yeah?" It's not a challenge; it sounds like a genuine question. 

"Yeah, it is." Karkat feels suddenly emboldened. Goodness knows, he's taken enough chances tonight: a smarter person would take that as a sign to slow down, but Karkat knows he's as idiotic in his own way as Dave is. Especially when it comes to times like these. "I'd go as far as to say it's extremely homo. It might in fact be the most homo thing there is."

Dave purses his lips, silent for several uncomfortable seconds. "Well, damn, Karkat," he says at length, his tone bland, "I can't argue with logic that airtight. You might be onto something there. I think it might require more research before we can really be sure though."

And Karkat's lost again. "Research?"

A hmmhmm. "I'm thinking we need to do some," Dave waggles his eyebrows, "hands on research. And lots of it." Then he smiles, and it looks so soft. "What do you say? Want to make a contribution to science?" He reaches his hand out. 

Karkat ignores the hand and pulls Dave into a crushing hug. He feels the other boy stiffen at the unexpected contact and he has enough time to wonder if he's misjudged the situation before Dave laughs and wraps his arms around Karkat's middle. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Dave says, amused.

"No, Dave," Karkat returns, too relieved to give the words the amount of bite required for proper sarcasm, "I'm clearly rejecting your offer and considering counter offers." His hold tightens. "Of course, it means yes, you moron."

"Glad we got that cleared up." Dave settles his head on Karkat's shoulder. "How do you think this experiment's going so far?"

Karkat feels giddy. "Pretty fucking great."

"Is that you're scientific opinion, Doctor Vantas," Dave teases.

"Yes, now shut up." Karkat presses a kiss to the side of Dave's head. "I'm still collecting data." 

**Author's Note:**

> Picture Cabin in the Woods but with less horror terrors and zombie torture families ;)


End file.
